I'll Stand By You
by Javanyet
Summary: Captain Picard lies in stasis when his artificial heart fails. What would you trade for the life of a friend?
1. Mistakes not repeated

**A/N: title and lyrics from the song by Chrissie Hynde**

* * *

_I'll stand by you  
__take me in, into your darkest hour  
__and I'll never desert you  
__I'll stand by you_

* * *

Since Data's reassignment to the Enterprise, and the ship's recovery and refitting, things had progressed in fairly mundane fashion. So mundane, in fact, that Data and Leo were due to return to the Daystrom Institute. Leo secretly had been happy to have had a little time to get to know Lieutenant B'rok, who had been returned to the administrative exec post after helping Data and Commander Tassaverde with the restoration of science and computer systems. Ensign Robinson had receded into the general crew population. Very gratefully, if the truth be known, though she kept that detail to herself.

"I'll bet the captain is _very_ happy to have an A.E. who is, ah, not inclined to emotional displays?" Leo suggested to her replacement, rather carefully. B'rok certainly was pleasant and not at all cold, as Leo had expected, but she found herself intimidated by his absolute sense of self control, not to mention his even more absolute genius. She'd too often wrestled with herself on the edge of emotional chaos not to notice its absence in Lt. B'rok.

"I thank you for the observation," he told her as they finished going over Leo's "secret back door communications list" that she'd compiled for use when expedience trumped protocol. B'rok had appeared impressed, but Leo didn't believe he'd ever take advantage of it anytime soon. "The captain does appreciate a sense of order in interpersonal interactions," B'rok continued, then confessed, "However I suspect he sometimes would welcome more... _color. _I am not sure if that's an accurate term, but it is the impression he gives. And I am not a logical choice to provide that."

"On the contrary I think that's _very_ accurate," Leo was smiling a little wistfully. "We definitely did work some 'color' into the ready room." Now she stifled a laugh. "Took a _lot_ of work, actually, but I'm glad to see it took." B'rok was looking baffled. "Not to worry, Lieutenant. Captain Picard takes people exactly as they are, regardless of any other impression he might give. And he'll appreciate and take advantage of the best you have to offer, and probably help you discover some things in yourself you never knew existed. And while _emotionally_ I'm a little disappointed to be succeeded by someone who can so outmatch me in satisfying the captain's rage for order and logic…" the wistfulness left her smile," the rest of me is _so_ relieved to know in some ways he's in better hands than mine _ever_ were."

"Hands?" B'rok inquired. "My function is not to 'handle' the captain."

"Well I have you bested there," Leo laughed, "captain-handling is a _key_ skill required of an A.E. and they don't teach it at the Academy. But it only comes with direct experience." She leaned toward the perplexed Vulcan and added in a stage whisper, "And it must remain a 'trade secret', upon pain of, well, things you can't even imagine." Leo figured there was simply no way to explain "The Eyebrow" to a Vulcan.

* * *

Leo had noticed Picard looking a little grey and weary in the days approaching her return to Daystrom, something she made bold to mention the day prior to hers and Data's scheduled departure.

"Lieutenant, allow me to point out that I had a mother who requires no replacement." His (former) admin exec's expression segued from a brow furrowed by concern to a narrow-eyed glare.

"With all due respect sir, allow _me_ to point out that my mandate encompasses any and all means by which I might aid the commander of the Enterprise in his administration of ship's affairs. This would include noting his personal health, or the apparent lack of it."

Picard sat heavily behind his desk and ran a hand over his eyes. "Now that your 'mandate' is concluded, I don't suppose it would do me any good to quote a regulation to counter that assumption?"

"Not so much, sir." She leaned forward against the desk. "No kidding, captain, you look a little… depleted?" It was plain that "a little grey" hadn't been a metaphor; his color was definitely off.

"Now why couldn't I have returned you to Daystrom just a few days earlier?" Picard sighed, "Perhaps I'd have been left in peace."

"By a Vulcan? Oh sure, a _Vulcan_ wouldn't notice a thing!" _Not to mention I've been giving him a little coaching,_ Leo thought slyly to herself.

"A Vulcan would have known his place." _Oh Picard, __that__ was a button well-pushed_ he congratulated himself silently, but was too honestly weary to raise The Eyebrow. This did not go unnoticed.

"Permission to speak extremely freely?" Leo hadn't intended to get caught up in their usual wordplay; he really did look ill and it alarmed her. He answered with only a nod.

"Then I'd like to go on the record as observing that the captain looks like hell. Sir."

"On top of things as usual, Lieutenant. I _feel _like hell." She appeared as surprised to hear him admit it as he was to have done so. "Considering the events of recent months I suppose I'm entitled."

No more smartass, Leo was all business now. "Shall I contact Beverly to request a diagnostic appointment?" Not that he couldn't do it himself but she was worried that if he felt even a particle better in a few minutes he'd never do it at all. And it was laughably unlikely that he'd have his new A.E. make the request.

"I can handle that myself, thank you." He noticed her doubtful eye. "You may check my communications log if you require proof." Then the stiffness went out of his voice. "Thank you Leo. I do count on you to thrust the obvious in my face when necessary." He paused, and corrected himself. "_Did_ count on you."

"No place that far, sir," she reminded him and stood straight again. "Will there be anything else? I think I've brought Lt. B'rok up to speed on any operations matters that might have been overlooked."

"Yes, I'm sure you have, god help me," Picard mused with a weak smile.

Leo ignored the comment. "I have some packing to finish, and a little preliminary subspace communication so I can catch up on whatever foul mess Dr. Grayson has made of my database specs in my absence. So if there's nothing else..."

"No thank you, Lieutenant, dismissed. I hope you and Commander Data will have time to join me in my quarters for dinner before your departure tomorrow."

"Only I if _I_ can cook!" Leo grinned. Just before she left she turned and wagged a finger at the captain. "Don't forget to contact Beverly…"

"Yes, mother," Picard sighed.

But Picard hadn't contacted Beverly. He'd gone straight to his quarters for a lie-down, which is where Beverly had found him hours later after rushing there in answer to the "distressed life signs" alarm that woke her from a sound sleep.

* * *

The comlink announced at high volume, then seconds later announced again. It fairly screamed. Leo checked the chronometer by the bed… 0300 hours? What the hell?

"Commander LaForge, Commander Data, Lieutenant O'Reilly, report to captain's ready room immediately."

It was the computer-lady voice, not the captain's, and that got more than the usual attention from both Leo and Data. Data, who had been attending to some last minute science/ops reviews, responded.

"Computer, details of situation?"

"Report immediately," was the only reply.

Leo was up and dressed in seconds. Uniform flung on, hair loose and unbrushed, she knew only that an emergency was at hand. As if they needed yet another one. Data, of course, was always prepared for such things.

"D, what could be happening?" Leo asked as they made their way to the turbolift. "I don't recall the captain ever giving over control to the ship's computer."

"I cannot venture a guess," Data admitted before announcing, "Bridge."

Data, Leo and Geordi arrived in the ready room to find an ashen-faced Riker seated at the captain's desk. Lt. B'rok was already there, as was Commander Tassaverde.

"Where's the captain?" Leo's first words. Even at 3am, certain things were to be expected.

Riker straightened. "Stiffened" might have been a better word. "Captain Picard is in sick bay."

"Ha, I _knew_ he was sick!" Leo announced to Geordi and Data. "I'm just glad he went ahead and got his diagnostic. I'd hate to have been there to see Beverly condemn him to bed rest…"

She would have continued but Riker cut her off sharply. "Lieutenant!" When she jumped, and stared at him, he softened his voice. "The captain is in stasis. His artificial heart suffered a catastrophic failure at 0224 hours. Luckily Beverly could beam him direct to sick bay and get him stabilized before his condition could degrade."

It was as if the room had decompressed. Even Data's mouth hung open, prepared to speak, but his positronic brain couldn't bring forth a sensible observation.

"It's why he looked so grey in the face," Leo muttered to herself. She looked at Will. "I should have ignored that 'I'll take care of it' crap, I should have _told_ you, or Beverly…"

Will was shaking his head. "We all knew something wasn't quite right. And we all know that the fact is that nobody but the captain will run the captain's affairs, no matter what we think."

Data found his voice first, of course. "Where will the captain be sent for replacement of the artificial heart?"

"Starbase 515, at the same facility that implanted this one," Will explained, relieved to have something concrete to address.

"515?" Leo echoed. "But it'll take a week to get there! And if this heart 'catastrophically failed' how do they know the next one won't? Do they have different models ready to implant?" She'd been only vaguely aware of the captain's mechanical heart. Artificial organs were fairly commonplace in the current century. But "catastrophic failure" ??

"The captain's heart was specifically designed based upon his physiology," Data clarified, "There are no interchangeable 'models' that may be substituted." Addressing Riker he added, "The staff at Starbase 515 will have to determine what caused the failure before a new heart may be designed and implanted."

Will's grim expression deepened. "Data's right. Beverly's transmitting as much of the diagnostics of the failed heart to Starbase 515 as possible, but they may have to analyze the unit itself to get all the answers."

"If it's all right I'd like to get right to sick bay and see what I can do to help," Geordi offered, already half out of his chair.

"Absolutely," Will told him and, seemingly as an afterthought, added, "dismissed. Keep me updated."

Geordi's "Yes, sir," was swallowed by the hiss of the closing doors as he rushed out of the ready room.

Silence fell again until Leo asked in a faltering voice, "So this stasis, it can continue indefinitely right? Kind of like suspended animation?" Medical technology of the 24th century was one area Leo was woefully deficient in. Other than first aid basics it wasn't something she'd had to think much about, given her administrative rank. "Stasis" to her meant something similar to when Data had been switched off when he was awaiting repairs.

Data hesitated a moment, casting an eye at Riker who nodded for him to go ahead. "That is not entirely correct. A stasis field greatly slows down biological activity on a cellular level. It contains enough oxygen to maintain cellular life but normal cell activity is barely discernible even by Dr. Crusher's medical instruments. Such a low level of function can be maintained for an extended period of time, much longer than was possible in the 21st century. But eventually cellular breakdown will occur." Leo had barely opened her mouth when, as always, her husband anticipated her question. "The length of time is dependent upon the individual's general condition, and the affected organs. The captain is in superior general health," Data consciously "punched up" his adjective to reassure Leo, "and only one organ has been affected. I believe the analysis of the problem and replacement of the captain's artificial heart will take place well within safety parameters."

Had they been in their quarters Leo would have responded, "Bullshit." She could tell when Data was stretching the capabilities of an android's "honesty programming", and right now his were fairly humming with tensile strain. She faked confidence in his explanation but told him, "From your mouth to Starbase 515's ear."

"There's no need for this to delay your return to Daystrom," Will informed Data and Leo. "Your shuttle will depart as scheduled, 2100 hours tomorrow," he checked the desk chronometer and corrected, "_tonight_. Of course we'll keep you informed on… everything."

"I am completely confident that Commander Tassaverde will perform admirably," Data offered with a nod to the commander. After a second or two he cut a look at Leo, who had remained silent.

Leo responded to Data's "visual nudge", "Right, yes, and I have to say that Lieutenant B'rok shames me in too many respects to name."

Immediate business concluded, Captain Riker ended the briefing. "Lieutenant B'rok, please contact Starfleet Command, coded subspace. I have to bring them up to speed."

"Coded, sir?" B'rok inquired.

"Not a good idea to let anyone else know that the captain of the Enterprise is out of commission," Riker reminded him.

"But _you_ are the captain of the Enterprise, sir," B'rok reminded him.

"Maybe, but not for long, I hope," Riker muttered, and even Data couldn't fail to notice his unease.

* * *

When they'd returned to their quarters Data finished the packing he'd begun the day before. Leo's packing remained incomplete as she sat silently on the sofa lost in thought. After he'd placed his containers by the door to await transport to the shuttle bay Data asked, "Would you like me to complete assembling your possessions?" When she didn't reply immediately he sat next to her on the sofa and took her hand.

"I understand that this is upsetting for you. You are worried for the captain, but you must remember that it is very unlikely that he will sustain lasting illness or injury. All that is required is being done."

She blinked, shook her head. "They're doing 'everything medically possible', right? Some phrases remain unchanged, forever. But what if 'everything medically possible' isn't enough?"

"Once we are back at the Daystrom Institute you will be able to establish continuous contact with Dr. Crusher, and Geordi. You will know everything that is happening."

Leo took a breath and looked Data in the eye. "No. I can't do that."

"You cannot do what?"

"I can't go back, not yet. Not while it's all up in the air."

Now Data took Leo's other hand in his and squeezed gently. "I understand why you wish to stay, but you cannot help the captain now."

"No, you don't understand." Leo pulled her hands away and stood up. "I'm not going to make the same mistake twice."

Data's eyes narrowed as he processed this, but he was forced to wait for her to explain.

"I'm not going to turn my back again and continue life as usual and wait for a call in the middle of the night. I'm not going to walk away just because I'm too scared to consider what might happen. Some mistakes are final and I'm not going to do it this time… not again."

"Cara mia," Data coaxed, finally understanding. "You are remembering your friend Paul, and your denial of the grave nature of his illness." Her look told him he was right, and he went to her to reassure, "The captain is not suffering from a terminal illness." No response, so he added, "This is different."

"I can't believe you just said that," Leo replied in a flat voice, then announced firmly, "I've made up my mind. I'm not leaving while he's in stasis. Some things are more important than…" She thought for a moment…_ Protocol? Logic?.._ then concluded, "anything." Leo didn't feel agitated or angry; her tone was casually final and her expression immovably resolute.

The Forever Face had met its match, Data realized. "Please, tell me."

Leo sat down again, and again Data settled next to her. "D, when the Scimitar blew up I disappeared into this black, empty place. Nothing got in, I wouldn't _let_ anything in, and I was just, well, you could say I was in stasis."

She waited to see if he would try to correct her, but he didn't. He reached an arm around her and encouraged, "Please, tell me everything."

"So there I was, looking alive but not being alive, not really, and if I'd been left alone I'd never have come out. I don't know what would have happened. But he was there, every minute even when he didn't know what the hell to do about it, even if I didn't see or hear him, even when I tried to drive him away, he was _there, _waiting for an opening, I knew it even if I didn't want to. And when finally, finally I started to stumble back awake he was right here," she held her hand up flat between hers and Data's faces, "_right here_ and he stayed with me all that first day and night, right there next to me. He didn't baby me, he knew exactly what I could do and he made me do it. Or made me know I could. Am I making sense here?"

Data gave her a kiss and assured her, "Yes. You are saying you were lost, and the captain found you."

"That's it exactly!" Leo nodded rapidly. "Even when I was as dead-to-the-world, in a way, as he is now, he waited for me to come back and helped me get started again. And I am _not_ going to repay that by rolling up my swag and going away when he's lying there in the dark. I'm gonna wait for him to come back, like he did for me. You remember, D, back when he threw so much behind us on that legal crapshoot so we could be together, I promised him I'd always, _always_ do the same, be the same for him. Even if nobody else understands this, it's what I have to do. Because if he does wake up, _he'll _understand it. And if he doesn't wake up, well..." she sucked in a shaky breath, "I'll know I haven't made the same mistake twice."

_"_Very well." Data framed Leo's face with both hands and rested his forehead against hers. "You know that whatever you decide you must do, I will support you in any way you require." He drew back to look her in the eye. "I would love no other."

With the destruction of the e-chip in the Scimitar incident, the power of analogs bound them more closely than ever before. Finally Leo allowed herself a gulp on the edge of tears, and buried herself in her husband's arms.

"That's all I'll ever need," she swore to him. "No matter how this turns out."


	2. Laid bare

"Beverly, I want to see him."

Before she engaged Will (Captain? _Captain!_) Riker in the battle she knew was to come Leo wanted, _needed_, to see Captain Picard. Just to see him, just to be sure he was really there, and what they told her was true.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Leo." Beverly was well-acquainted with bond Leo shared with Picard, and understood why it would feel imperative to her to "check in" on him. But what would be the point? It would likely only upset her more… a body in stasis was not a pretty sight.

"Please, just for a few minutes. There's some things I have to…" Leo shut herself off, knowing she'd sound like a loon to the capable doctor no matter how long they'd known one another. "I just want to see him, okay? I'm not familiar with all this stasis stuff, I just need to convince myself he's okay. As okay as he can be, anyway." Was she convincing Beverly that _she _was okay?

Yes, apparently. "All right… but let me go in with you. To explain anything you don't understand." _In case you go to pieces. _ She led Leo into the isolation room. "Don't expect him to look like he's sleeping… his bodily functions are all but shut down. He won't look healthy, but I assure you he's alive."

"He didn't look _healthy_ the last time I saw him," Leo observed dismissively, but what she saw when she entered the room sucked the breath out of her in a rush. The captain lay on a more sophisticated version of a diagnostic bed, as naked as the day he was born. There was a "privacy field" that masked his groin, but other than that he was entirely uncovered. In other circumstances (as if she'd see him this way in other circumstances!) Leo might have been conscious of what an attractive male specimen he was… in gorgeous shape, his muscular chest, arms, and legs could have belonged to a man many years younger. But none of this entered her mind… what she saw was a ghostly shell bathed in a sickly blue-white field of some sort. He _did_ look as Data had when he'd been shut off, only… worse, somehow. Picard's closed eyes seemed sunken, and just under his ribs where admittedly flat stomach muscles would protect his internal organs… it looked concave, as if everything had shrunk.

As if reading her mind, Beverly turned to Leo and explained, "The internal organs contract under stasis. What you see is normal for a patient in this condition."

"But he's not _breathing_," Leo protested, "not at all!"

"He's being saturated with the proper mix of oxygen and nitrogen on a cellular level, so there's no need to breathe as we do normally. Leo, look at me." Beverly leaned into Leo's field of vision, seeing she was staring fixedly at the captain. When Leo tore her eyes away from the bed, Beverly continued, "The goal of stasis is to relieve the strain on the nervous and organ systems, to preserve a state of near-hibernation that will allow the body to maintain itself with the least possible effort while awaiting repair. He looks much worse than he is, I promise."

Taking a step or two closer to the bed Leo asked, "What's that queasy-looking light all around him?"

"It's a bio-filter. Stasis suppresses the immune system, and the light you're seeing is actually a larger version of the one we use to disinfect wounds. It allows us to perform procedures and tests without having to worry about infection. Whatever passes through the field… instruments, hands, anything… is instantly sterilized."

"Uh-huh." Leo had stepped around Beverly and was absorbed in staring at the captain. "What about brain activity? I know his eyes are closed but can he hear us? Can he feel it when you touch him for tests and things?"

Beverly was smiling sympathetically. "No, Leo. Bodies in stasis experience nothing but autonomic brain function, again at a very low level."

"But how do you _know_?"

The suddenness of Leo's question and the speed with which she'd pivoted to face her took Beverly by surprise.

"The nature of brain function during stasis has long been established. Trust me, there's no sensory input, and obviously no output." She moved closer to Leo again, and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I know this must be very disturbing. It always is to anyone who's not familiar with the process. But he really is all right, every aspect of his physiology is behaving exactly as expected for someone in this state."

"Can you leave me alone with him for a few minutes?" Leo asked. This seemed to worry Beverly.

"You know I trust you, we've been friends for years, but as ship's doctor I have to ask why."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to mess with anything," Leo turned back to the bed, and the captain, "it's just… we both know up until the mid-twentieth century medical science believed that comatose patients had only autonomic brain function, right? As far as senses it was nothing in, nothing out, like you said." She turned back to Beverly. "Then, when technology got more sophisticated, doctors learned that there _was_ sensory input. They could tell by seeing the activity in those regions of the brain that they couldn't read before. And they found out that it helped, in some cases… that increased brain activity sometimes led to faster recovery."

"I'm well aware of the history, but that connection was never conclusively proven. And this is different."

_Shit!_ Those three goddamned words again! Leo managed to keep her voice neutral, neither impatient nor pleading.

"Well you said that stasis keeps all biological functions at a very low level… maybe the kind of brain activity we're talking about is just too subtle for your technology to read," she paused for emphasis and added, "_yet._" The look on her friend's face was that of someone with far superior knowledge restraining herself from telling the "uninitiated" that she was beyond her depth.

"You're talking about a paradigm shift that happened at a time when medical technology grew by huge leaps. We've come far enough now that it happens by inches." Suddenly Beverly felt guilty for engaging in a debate. It wouldn't hurt anyone or anything to give Leo a few minutes alone with Jean Luc… it really was a natural request, given the circumstances and Leo's limited understanding of the technology.

"Take as long as you want, I'll be in my office." She gave Leo a hug that was returned warmly. "Catch up with me before you and Data leave tonight. And don't worry," she looked back at the bed, and Picard, with the same pained determination that Leo felt. "He'll be all right, if I have to take the entire Medical Division hostage to make it happen."

* * *

When Beverly had left Leo approached the bed a little hesitantly, as if trying not to wake someone. Suddenly she felt foolish.

"Here I am, over my head again," she muttered, "I'd like to say I'm getting used to it, but…" She looked down at her motionless captain and told him in a quiet voice, "So I'm supposed to believe nothing in, nothing out. Well you know me, I never take anyone's word for anything. And you know I'm here, don't you?" She found herself waiting for a response and berated herself, "Yup, old habits dying hard. I'm waiting for that eyebrow…"

Taking in the immobile form in front of her, Leo fought the irrational impulse to shake him, to scream in his face, "_Wake up goddamnit! You're the fucking captain, Will's gonna bust an artery if he has to run this ship for long!_"

Instead, she reached a hand through the bio-filter and slowly traced The Eyebrow with a light fingertip.

"Come back, you." After a moment Leo rested her hand on the bed next to Picard's shoulder and assured him, "It's okay, I can wait. You waited for me. But I'm not gonna wait long… _somebody_ knows what happened here. They just gotta find out who, and what, and then they'll build you a new heart and plug that sucker in and you can kick me out for good." She thought about this, and laughed softly. "How many people have a team of experts standing by to fix their broken heart?"

The echo of Leo's miserably one-sided banter surrounded her and she drew in a short, gasping breath. The bio-filter bathed her face and hair in a blue-white halo as she leaned through it to press a kiss on Picard's cool, bald head.

"I'll be back," she whispered, then added as a promise to them both, "and so will you."


	3. Paranoia or logic?

"Not very impressive, is it, to keep someone like that alive." Geordi, returned from engineering analysis, handed the clear glass case containing Captain Picard's failed heart to Dr. Crusher. "You'd expect it to be lit up, or playing music."

"Or reciting Shakespeare," offered Leo, who had just emerged from the isolation room where the captain lay. "But he wouldn't have any of that, would he?"

"No," Beverly acknowledged, "he'd probably have it even smaller and simpler than it is."

The artificial organ lying in the sterile glass case was considerably smaller than a normal human heart, but then it didn't need to be any larger than it was. Powered by a self-renewing power source, it was a small silver-ish functional-looking thing, a very adequate pump that pumped much more efficiently than any organic heart. It needed replacing every twenty-five years or so, "self-renewing" being a limited concept even in the 24th century, and it had performed without failure since its invention a century before. Each model was engineered to its host's physiological specifications, thus a "catastrophic failure" could be connected only to the unit's specific host, or some exterior phenomenon. While the former could be determined via the host's biological history, the latter would require a great deal of investigation outside of the normal purview of Starfleet's med/science division.

"So if it nothing inside goes wrong, what might make this crap out?" Leo asked, hoping for either a simple engineering or a medical answer. Her friends shared an inquiring look.

"I'm afraid I don't know," Beverly admitted. Geordi, however, held back.

"Okay, I guess we have to see what the 515 analyses come up with." Leo headed for the door.

"Hang on a minute, I'll catch up," Geordi called after her, then told Beverly, "I know you'll keep everyone updated."

She looked at the "heart" that didn't beat within the glass case in her hand. "Of course."

"So what do you think happened?" Leo asked Geordi. She knew him well enough to be aware that he had something beyond the normal technology of the situation playing on his mind.

"Probably what you're thinking," he told her as they arrived in Engineering. "That whatever triggered that failure had to be configured to the captain's specific physiology, or it wouldn't have worked."

"So I'm not a paranoid conspiracy theorist?"

"Not unless we both are."


	4. Flying solo

"You called for me, Captain." It was becoming easier to address him as "Captain", especially when he wore the stern expression he was wearing now.

Riker motioned for Leo to have a seat, rather stiffly she noticed.

"I just received a subspace communication from Commander Bruce Maddox, who informed me of your indefinite personal leave from the android cultural project."

"There was no disrespect intended," she assured him, and meant it. "Commander Maddox thought it best if he discussed it with you himself."

"No disrespect intended from my position either, but Lieutenant you no longer have any post or position on the Enterprise. Regardless of Commander Maddox's willingness to spare you, your absence can't help but have an effect on the project you've declared such commitment to."

My god, how much was this like some of her debates with Captain Picard? The dance of euphemism.

"Data's going to be taking up my slack. After all he can work 24/7 and, well, multitasking is hardly an issue for him."

Suddenly Riker gestured in exasperation and dropped his captain's demeanor. He never was much of a "dancer".

"Come on, Leo, what can you possibly expect to accomplish by remaining on board? There's nothing you can do for the captain, do you plan to just hang around in the VIP quarters monitoring the stasis telemetry? You can do that from Daystrom."

Leo looked Will straight in the eye, hard. "I can't leave here with him in stasis, in… limbo. I don't know how much clearer I can make it. Beverly says he's entirely shut off, well I don't believe it. I believe somewhere locked inside he's there, and he knows where he is and what he's waiting for. No control, just having to wait and hope the right things happen."

Will's expression, and voice, softened. "Even if you're right, with everyone and everything here dedicated to making sure those right things happen, and fast… why is it so important for you to stay when all you'll be doing is waiting, just like Captain Picard, and with no more control than he has?"

"Because I owe him that. Because I promised. Because if he had ever even once decided it wasn't worth the bother or the risk or the fact that others wouldn't understand, my life would be nothing like it is now." She leaned forward on the desk, pleading, the way she'd promised herself she wouldn't. "Will _please_. I won't be in the way, you don't have to worry I'll be tempted to get involved in any of my old territory. I'm staying for one reason, and he's lying in sickbay. And I don't intend to leave until he personally issues the order."

There was an attempt, only partly successful, to return to Command Mode. "You're assuming I'll grant permission for you to remain aboard."

She managed not to smile. "I know you will, because I know that if you were in my place you'd nail your boots to the deck if you had to. I guess we have the disadvantage of knowing each other too well; it gets in the way of all this protocol-speak."

Finally they both had to smile, and Riker put on a bit of bluster.

"Permission to remain aboard granted," he bounced a fist off the desk, then pointed at Leo to emphasize, "but it's understood that you will have _no_ involvement in ship's affairs, administrative or otherwise, unless ordered by me."

Nodding readily in agreement Leo promised, "Even if you do I promise I'll refuse! I swear, I won't even _look_ at Lieutenant B'rok, you can block my access codes to anything you want."

That was a bluff; she intended to make very great use of the ship's computers and communication systems and had gained enough knowledge from Data over the years to mask some of her activity. Will's smile told her that, for the first time ever, he wouldn't call it. Leo knew if there actually were cards and chips on the table she wouldn't be so lucky.

"I don't think we need to go that far," he assured her, "I'll contact Daystrom and let Commander Maddox know you'll be spending your personal leave here until further notice, and assume you'll keep him and the rest of your team informed as events develop." As they stood and he saw her to the door he commented, "I think I'm getting a taste of what went on in here for the past few years."

Leo paused at the door. "Then you know why I'm doing what I'm doing."

"I suppose I do. Dismissed," but before she stepped through the door he added, " And give my regards to the captain."

Leo smiled. "Thanks, Will... I mean Captain."

After the door hissed shut Will shook his head and confessed to the empty room, "I'm hoping by the time we all get used to that I'll be back to just plain old Number One."

* * *

_Stasis Isolation room, 2000 hours_

"Will put up less of a fight than I expected. Don't worry, I was very well behaved. It's not like I don't know why it doesn't make sense to him, but I convinced him I wouldn't be in anybody's way. I don't blame him, really. And I'm gonna apologize all up and down to everybody for all of this when it's over. I have a couple of ideas, kind of off-the-manual, you know? Everyone's working overtime to figure out what happened to your heart, but they're slaves to the book, which would be fine under normal circumstances. I have a deep feeling that this isn't 'normal', malfunction-wise. Geordi has the same feeling, but we haven't had time to talk about it yet. It's getting late, I gotta go and see Data off. This is gonna be so… I don't know. I've always had one or the other of you to steer me straight when I wander off and stop making sense. The way you say '_Lieutenant_' with those dry little italics... something tells me it'll pop up in my head to get my attention when I need it. And Data of course will be calling me on subspace every day. Knowing him, probably more than once… oh god, I _hope_ so anyway. I'm not used to flying solo… and even if I _can,_ I don't want to. Okay, I'll be back later. No, don't worry, not til tomorrow. I'll sleep, I swear. I _might_ even eat, ha ha. You just… keep on doing what you're doing. I hope you don't mind if I smooch you again… I haven't checked the regulations, but is it in the same category as striking a superior officer? Non violent physical insubordination or something… great. See what you've done? Now I'm _inventing_ regulations. For that, I'll never forgive you. No, wait, I didn't mean that… I'll forgive you, everything, anything. But if you don't come back... the deal's off."

* * *

The shuttle pilot tried to stay focused on the control panel, but it was hard not to let her eyes wander to where Commander Data was saying goodbye to his wife. The pilot, a recent Academy graduate, knew all about cybernetic sexual programming and all, but she never imagined an android could look so _natural_ making out like that. Like a romance novel, or one of those antique Italian films she'd seen now and then at the Academy. She could swear she'd heard him say "Cara mia"… nah, she must be crazy. He's an _android_, for christsake, and whatever made a human woman want to marry one, well, it just couldn't be any more than physical, could it? Not that she was prejudiced or anything… just not her cup of tea. But who knew it could look so _convincing?_

"God, D, I'm gonna miss you so much… one false move and I'm gonna jump on that shuttle with you." Leo had finally come up for air from Data's "Marcello goodbye kiss". He'd dipped her halfway to the floor, for godsake. Now he set her on her feet and regarded her closely.

"I do not believe you, though I thank you for the thought." He touched her face gently. "Your absence from my every day will be… significant. But we will speak often." While he had agreed to support her decision to stay behind, Data wanted to be sure she did not feel alone. He was well aware that he and Captain Picard were the emotional supports Leo most relied upon, no matter how subtly they were manifested. He was also aware of how his wife craved physical contact and reassurance when she was upset or uncertain, as she would no doubt be in the days to come. He'd even suggested that he might quickly program a holodeck simulation for that purpose but her response was unexpectedly negative. In fact she had looked aghast, so he quickly dropped the issue.

Leo grabbed on for one more lung-collapsing kiss, then abruptly broke the embrace. "_Go_, go now, go fast, go-go-go!" She cast a quick look over her shoulder toward the shuttlecraft. "Or that pilot will think we're doing the horizontal mambo right here on the deck."

Data suddenly looked concerned. "I hope that is not the case… our journey is of some length, and she might expect similar services before our arrival."

"_Smartass!_" Leo smacked his arm, and shoved him in the direction of the shuttlecraft.

"I would love no other," Data told Leo quietly.

The shuttlecraft door slid shut behind him, leaving Leo standing alone in the empty bay. She heaved a sigh and left, standing in the corridor outside to listen as the alarm sounded and the bay doors opened, permitting the craft to exit.

"Me too," she whispered, and set off to meet Geordi in Ten Forward.


	5. Sherlock and Shakespeare

_Ten Forward, 2200 hours, day one_

Geordi LaForge was not a happy camper. Technology was his language, and had been his existential medium for longer than he could remember. In spite of this, he had disassembled the captain's failed heart, had analyzed its every part and process, and it had given him no answers. Nothing damaged, nothing worn out, and nothing out of the ordinary realm of the extraordinary organic mechanism it replaced. To quote the great Holmes, whatever remained, however improbable, must be the truth, but nothing improbable had remained. Data had offered his theories before his departure: a sudden organic "allergy" to the symbiosis between the mechanical heart and the organic body, a leftover organic shift from the Borg assimilation. But Dr. Crusher's analyses revealed no new antibodies, and the Borg assimilation had occurred nearly seven years ago. An abrupt reaction to that was unlikely. Nothing internal or organic remained as even an improbable theory. While convinced that the problem had an external cause, Geordi was stumped regarding its origins.

"Can I get you something?" Guinan inquired. Her reaction to Picard's condition had been visceral, if self-contained. It hadn't taken corridor chatter for her to know of Leo's determination to remain aboard, but even her singular knowledge of Picard hadn't provided any insight regarding his condition. "How about a little Sigurian brandy?" While not officially synthehol, it was a low-alcohol alternative to what she suspected Geordi really longed for at the moment. Geordi, she knew, was what was colloquially referred to on Earth as a "cheap drunk".

"Sure, Guinan," he smiled gratefully, "unless you have some of that 'Jack' that some of the wilder women of the Enterprise are so fond of."

Guinan nodded. "I think I can come up with a bit of that. But take care, Commander. No offense intended, but I'm not sure you're as equal to it as they are."

"I trust your judgment, and no offense taken."

A moment later Leo joined him.

"So, what have you figured out?" she inquired, hoping beyond hope that he'd found a solution.

"Nothing. Y'know, I've used every skill and inspiration in my collection, and every idea Data had to offer. The result is absolutely nothing that explains what happened."

He looked so downcast, exactly the way Leo felt. She grasped Geordi's hand and asked, "So what are you drinking? I'm buying." A joke, of course.

"Jack. Go for it."

Guinan appeared as if from nowhere with not one but two glasses of the named liquor, genuine, on the rocks. Leo raised her glass.

"To common frustration."

"That's an understatement," Geordi noted. "I've worn deductive reasoning to the bone. I _know_ the captain's heart has been affected by something besides his own physiology, but so far nothing makes sense."

Leo took a slug of her drink. "Great minds work alike… I've been thinking myself that it's not something strictly internal. Not that I know much about this artificial organ thing, but I've sort of been reading up in the past few hours, and Data filled me in as fast as I could absorb. We all figure it had to come from somewhere outside, at some point."

"Dr. Crusher has helped determine it's not a result of the Borg assimilation."

"So who or what else has tinkered with him I wonder?" Leo mused.

Geordi came halfway out of his chair, alarming some crewmembers who were socializing nearby. "The Cardassians!" he exclaimed.

"Huh?" Leo had known the captain had been tortured, but had never been privy to the details. That he'd been surgically altered, even temporarily, hadn't occurred to her.

"The Cardassians," he continued, "when they had him they implanted… something… to inflict pain. I remember that from something Beverly said… it wasn't exactly public knowledge, but she asked me for some technical details of what might be used for that purpose… I never had any specifics. Everything was classified."

"Do you think that Starfleet has any information that could be useful, if they were persuaded to declassify it?"

Geordi knocked back the rest of his drink and immediately coughed violently. Leo managed not to smile. An engineering heavyweight Commander LaForge certainly was, but a two (or even one) fisted drinker he certainly was _not_.

"Won't know until we ask," Geordi managed, glad nobody could see his eyes watering behind the VISOR. "I'll get Commander… I mean _Captain_ Riker to throw a little weight behind the request. I can't imagine the Federation would hold back something that could help us with this."

That he imagined wrong wouldn't come as a surprise to either one of them.

* * *

_Stasis Isolation Room, 0800 hours, day two_

"Can you believe I'm awake this early without being on duty? Here, I brought you something. Beverly said it was okay, it'll be all sterilized by that blue field and even though she doesn't believe you'll notice it, 'it couldn't hurt'. Kind of like my visits, and my staying on board. 'It couldn't hurt'. Oh well, whatever gets 'em logically through the day. I didn't think you'd mind, when I went into your quarters to find your book of sonnets I saw it on the lounge chair. Upsy daisy, just a little… there, I think that's settled right. I'll have to tell Data that the 'conceptual teddy' he gave me is being put to work again. I was hoping you'd keep it… not that I'd expect you to tell even me why you did. I just guessed it might help sometimes, whenever you needed… whatever it is you need that you never tell anyone about. You just don't look comfortable with your head lying there on that table, and I figured this might help. 'Couldn't hurt', ha ha. So anyway, Data was off right on schedule, and you'd be proud of me: I managed to sleep through the night. It occurred to me that this is the first time Data and I have been apart of our own free will, not because somebody is making trouble for us, so I guess that makes a difference. You won't believe this, he wanted to program a _holodeck simulation_ of himself to keep me company when I needed some extra support. At least I'm telling myself that's what he had in mind… 'keeping company' being subject to interpretation. Sorry… too much information, right? It's easy to let those things slip out when there's no Eyebrow to restrain me. Lemme tell you, Will could sure use that eyebrow when he contacts Starfleet Command later today. Geordi thinks maybe what's wrong with that heart-o-matic of yours might be connected to what the Cardassians did to you. He and Beverly have pretty much ruled out the Borg alterations as having happened too long ago to suddenly cause a problem now. But Starfleet has details about that 'device' the Cardassians implanted that might help solve the puzzle. It's the only variable that hasn't been analyzed, anyway. Oh hell, listen to me, talking like an engineering whiz when I couldn't techno-geek my way out of a wet paper bag. But enough about technical stuff and Cardassians. I thought I'd read to you for awhile this morning, Shakespeare's sonnets, not to be read in any particular order, I warn you, and I can't promise the elegance I'm sure you've heard from others. Feel free to critique me when you come back. Let's see, where to begin? How about 104 for starters, I like that one.

_'To me, fair friend, you never can be old…' _"


	6. Diplomatic discomfort

_Ready room, 0900 hours, day 3_

"Admiral Nechayev, I understand the delicate position you're in. But you must understand that as acting captain I have to explore every possible avenue to assist in Captain Picard's recovery." He weighed his words for a moment, then decided on the direct approach. "I get the distinct impression that you know something you're not willing to share that could make that happen faster. Surely you know that Captain Picard cannot be maintained in stasis indefinitely."

"I'm sorry, Captain Riker. I wish I were free to tell you more. We're engaged, as you say, in very delicate negotiations with the Cardassians. Accusing them of wanton torture would unquestionably be counterproductive."

Will struggled to control his frustration. Frustration? Hell, he was verging on open rage.

"The events go far beyond 'accusations'. The _torture_ Captain Picard suffered at the hands of the Cardassians is established fact. The surgical alterations that the Cardassians performed upon his person to enable that torture are established fact and have been recognized by Starfleet. I fail to see where being coy about it could gain anything."

"With all due respect, Captain, that is because your duties vis-à-vis the Cardassians have been limited to confrontation, not diplomacy. In any case, the Federation and Starfleet would not endanger the life of one of its most important commanders. Based on the information transmitted from Starbase 515, Starfleet Command is satisfied that Captain Picard will recover without requiring information from the Cardassians that would prove harmful to our negotiations."

It was hard to keep the sarcasm from his voice. "And with all due respect, Admiral, I must inform you that Starbase 515 is no closer to determining the reason for the failure of Captain Picard's artificial heart than it was on the day the failure occurred."

"Starfleet's med-tech capabilities are unparalleled in the known galaxies, Captain. Please inform the concerned parties that we cannot assist you. Nechayev out."

He stared at the blank viewscreen. How could he possibly tell Geordi and Leo that the information they wanted was irrelevant when he didn't believe it himself?

For the first time in his career Will Riker felt uncomfortable in his uniform.


	7. Quelle surprise

The expansion of Data's duties had, not surprisingly, absorbed all of his time since his return to Daystrom. As Leo had expected, Dr. Grayson had allowed his personal judgments to guide his database programming in Leo's absence. AKA, in Leo's estimation, "fucking everything up just because he can".

"Commander, the Lieutenant's parameters simply don't take into account the mechanical nature of the subjects of the project. She doesn't have enough experience in cybernetics to keep her from anthropomorphizing them and quantifying their characteristics as if they were human." Grayson was aware that he was quantifying the Commander himself, but he believed an android's absence of emotions would make Data more inclined to agree. Unfortunately other variables had been ignored.

True, Data was incapable of being emotionally offended by Grayson's attitude. Yet he found it in direct opposition to the intent of the project. He also recognized that Dr. Grayson was devaluing the importance of Leo's perspective, and thus her contribution to the project. This Data found fundamentally unacceptable, with or without an e-chip.

"Dr. Grayson, notwithstanding your technical estimation of Lieutenant O'Reilly's management of this aspect of the project, your mandate is to fulfill her instructions. If their technical logic is not immediately apparent, it additionally is your mandate to determine the analogs that will make them so. That being the case, you are to delete the alternate database parameters you have written since our departure, and resume your design of the multilevel database per the Lieutenant's instructions. If any of these instructions require clarification, Commander Maddox will provide you with details of the project's administrative protocols."

Thus Dr. Grayson stood corrected, in several respects.

* * *

_Lieutenant Leo O'Reilly's temporary quarters, 1600 hours, day 3_

When finally Data found time to contact Leo he was well aware that she would likely be exhausted and distressed. He knew instinctively (or what he had analogously assimilated as "instincts") she had spent many hours at Captain Picard's side. He did not, however, anticipate the level of anger that was apparent when he requested "onscreen".

Leo was pacing, no, _stomping_. Given the limited range of the visual subspace monitor, Data could catch only glimpses of his wife.

Data's hail came as Leo was in full-bore raging rampage.

"_What??_" she shouted as the computer announced "Private subspace communication for Lieutenant O'Reilly."

"Hello? I am sorry it has taken so long for me to contact you. Is everything all right?" As soon as the words left his mouth Data realized how ridiculous they were. E-chip or no, distance regardless, he could fairly sense Leo's distress.

"They know something, but they won't help!" Leo's rage was readily apparent even as her partial image flashed in and out of the frame of his monitor. "There's some sort of _negotiations_ going on with the Cardassians, and oh dear we mustn't _upset_ them by reminding them of what they did to the captain to make their torture _easier_!"

"They?" Cardassians? Data was completely nonplussed. "Leo, please, calm yourself. Sit down so we can communicate face to face. I do not understand."

Leo stopped in mid-rant and forced herself to be still. "D, it's so much worse than we thought." _Please, say something else. I need that voice to calm me down._

"Cara mia. I know you must be tired and worried. Please, sit down and take a moment to be calm. Tell me."

_Tell me._ The two magic words. She sat in front of her comport and focused on Data's face. She'd been without him for only a couple of days, but oh god, she realized he was exactly what she needed. She sucked in a breath and managed to speak in complete logical sentences.

"Will contacted Starfleet Command. See, Geordi and I had figured out maybe what's going on has something to do with what the Cardassians did to the captain surgically, you know, so they could…" she trailed off, not wanting to think too hard about it.

"Influence him," Data offered. "Yes, that would be a logical theory. Assuming that nothing in Dr. Crusher's evaluation indicated that the captain's physiology was the source of the failure, the most reasonable supposition would be the most recent external alterations he had undergone."

"Right! And the most _recent_ alteration had to be the Cardassians' surgical implant. But the biophysical details are considered classified. That might have made sense for awhile, but I don't understand why they're still verboten just because the Federation is interested making nice with the Cardassians."

Data considered this, and considered the wisdom of his next suggestion. He did not wish to hold back any relevant thoughts, but knew what response they would trigger in Leo. However the "bottom line", as many of his human friends termed it, was the captain's life, and that consideration was paramount. Being essentially logical above all things, and unable to forget anything he had experienced, Data also was aware of the unfortunate possibility that the Federation's "bottom line" differed from that of his friends and colleagues.

"Perhaps the Federation is presently dedicated to plausible deniability." Data found it hard to believe that Leo had failed to consider this, but her transformed expression confirmed it. "It is quite possible that Starfleet believes that in the interests of gaining the trust of the Cardassians that no ill will remains. Good will would thus depend upon not acknowledging recent transgressions by the Cardassians."

"Oh my god… they're more concerned with covering their ass than saving the captain's life?" The full-bore cynicism of Leo's origins had been dulled by her experiences to the contrary in this century, even if she'd been able to identify the old-world practices of military brinksmanship during the Cardassian incident. But when peace and alliance was the issue… could the Federation really be as soulless as governments of her own time had been, even now??

"Perhaps they do not see it that way," Data advised, "Perhaps they truly believe that the two are not mutually exclusive."

Leo was half out of her chair. "Oh, _sure_. Like those empty suits ever thought that deep. Y'know even I hadn't thought that they could be so unethical, but I guess I was wrong. I should have _known _better! Nothing changes, nothing improves, when it comes to military-political crap, _nothing!!_" Despite her resolute intention to be expedient and logical for the captain's sake, Leo's emotional outrage carried her over the edge. Pride and self-righteousness usurped control from pragmatism. That self-righteousness wouldn't help the captain, and quite possibly could harm him, didn't register.

"_Leora Eileen!" _

The edge in Data's voice pulled Leo back into her seat as he continued.

"The first priority is the captain's survival."

Leo couldn't control her annoyance. "No shit, Sherlock!"

"And if the Federation is not forthcoming with the information you require, you must focus your thoughts on pursuing an alternative. Now is not the time to allow emotion to control you."

He was right, he was so right, he was _always_ right, she realized. "I wish I had you here to remind me of that."

There was the Mona Data smile, and its comfort was immediate.

"I am no less 'here' than when we stood in the same room. I know you, and know that you will be able to marshal your emotions to serve what is necessary. I only wish I could be here to provide the physical support that I know would help you."

Leo admitted, "Well that would be a plus."

"Perhaps it would have been wise for you to accept my holograph program." He was hoping to derail her anger with a bit of humor.

She shook her head and told him glumly, "It just wouldn't be the same."

Data's expression sobered. "No, it would not be, for either of us."

* * *

_Stasis isolation room, 2100 hours, day 3_

"Starfleet is being uncooperative, quelle surprise. Can you believe they're 'negotiating' with the Cardassians? Try negotiating with mosquitoes… no matter what they say they'll still drink your blood. Well not to worry, Geordi and I are still on the case and we are both watching your caboose. But I'm afraid Sherlock has run his course and we might be about to bend protocol, I'm sure you're shocked to hear that. All that logical deductive up-front reasoning hasn't gotten us anywhere. I really hoped for better but I'm only disappointed, not surprised. Another shock for you, huh? I gotta talk with Geordi, we'll come up with something else. They tell us 'only' another day at warp ten, like proving I was wrong about it taking weeks to get to 515 matters. Not good enough, _not good enough_. Sorry, no time to read today. Here, another inappropriate act to add to the collection," through the blue field, a kiss on the temple. "I'll be back. And so will _you_, goddammit, if we all have to earn a court-martial to make it happen."


	8. Back alleys and brass knuckles

_Lieutenant Leo O'Reilly's temporary quarters, 0400 hours, day four_

...how gullible must anyone be to believe this

…_how gullible to believe the Federation… "The classified information is irrelevant…"_

_how gullible…_

_Gullible…_

_Gul…_

As her comport chimed, Leo woke with a gasp and sat bolt upright.

"Leo, it's Geordi. I know it's early but I think I know which way to go with this."

Leo threw on her robe and ran to the outer room calling, "On visual." Geordi appeared on the viewscreen, as rumpled and sleep-interrupted as she must look. "What?"

"I did some more digging and found that nothing in the captain's routine Starfleet medical records has been classified. But in the period just after his release by the Cardassians all medical records are marked classified for about two weeks. Only a few key personnel in Stafleet Command have clearance to access them."

"Huhm," Leo was rubbing her eyes and trying to gather her wits (and her language skills). "When he was recovering… he spent a couple weeks at a medical starbase. Did you check the star date of the last classified record against his release back to duty?"

A wide grin preceded Geordi's reply. "You bet, and records after his release were no longer classified, outside of the usual confidentiality lock for his sessions with Counselor Troi. All _bio_medical records are normal clearance after his return to the Enterprise."

"Which means…" she hardly had to say it, but did anyway. "That the captain's heart failure _has_ to be related to whatever the Cardassians did to him. Which means it's part of what the Federation doesn't want to 'embarrass' the Cardassians with as they negotiate whatever they're negotiating."

"Their satisfaction was short lived as Geordi observed, "So now we know where the answer is. But how the hell do we get at it? Telling Starfleet what we've figured out won't accomplish anything." He humphed in frustration. "Sherlock Holmes never had to deal with Starfleet's Force Field of Protocol."

Suddenly things crystallized in Leo's brain, and she sat up straighter. "Not Sherlock Holmes. Dixon Hill."

"Huh? Maybe you'd better get some more sleep and get back to me."

"No, Geordi, listen," She leaned forward as if they were seated at the same table. "Sherlock's taken us as far as he can. It's time to check in with Dix." She was unaware that her expression had changed, from sleepy puzzlement to narrow-eyed calculation, but Geordi couldn't miss the transformation.

"If you mean back alleys and brass knuckles…" the metaphors were obvious, "slow down. We arrive at Starbase 515 soon, let's see what they can come up with hands-on before you go running off to the noir side."

"And how much time do you figure it'll take for them to do _another_ complete workup of all biophysical processes, and how long to go over the mechanical heart chip by chip?"

Geordi didn't look very confident. "I don't know…"

"Fine. I promise not to steal a shuttlecraft or take hostages, but sitting and waiting while things degrade isn't something I plan to do. Like you said, there _is_ an answer, ready-made. I think I know where to start looking for it." The idea had begun to gel just as she was waking from her dream, just before the comport summoned her.

"Leo, I'm not kidding. Blowing every regulation is not gonna help the captain." Leo rolled her eyes at that, so he pressed, "At least tell me what you've got in mind."

_Shit._ In just the last five minutes Leo had made up her mind. To a point, anyway. If she was going to do back alleys she didn't want to risk anyone else but herself.

"I can't say."

"You mean you don't know?"

"I mean I _can't_ _say_." It was obvious he saw right through her attempt to be coy. "Look, I swear if it looks like I'm going to do something crazy I'll tell you."

A shake of the head, unconvinced. "Even if I believed that... you still won't tell me _what_."

_Plausible deniability…_ it wasn't just to cover Starfleet's ass. The less she told him the less risk to him or anyone else if things got a little… crazy. And the less chance anyone could slow things down even more.

"You just have to trust me. _Data_ trusts me."

Geordi's expression didn't change. "Data hasn't _talked_ to you in the past ten minutes. I'm telling you now, I'll be monitoring your communications. If I see _anything_ going on that shouldn't be, don't think I won't report it."

"You won't see a thing, I promise. I'll keep you posted, every step of the way. And you do the same with whatever you can find out. O'Reilly out."

Geordi knew too well he wouldn't "see a thing" amiss. Leo had learned just enough about "off the map" communications to keep that from happening as long as she didn't get carried away. And he had only himself, and Data, to blame.

"Oh baby…" Geordi shook his head and frowned at the now-blank viewscreen. "Please let your 24th century smarts control your 21st century impulses."

* * *

"Lieutenant O'Reilly," surprise was evident in the greeting, then concern, "Jean Luc, Captain Picard, he's not…"

Edward Jellico couldn't think of any other reason that Picard's former administrative exec would be contacting him.

"No! No captain, not that. Captain Picard remains in stasis. He's… well, he's doing as well as somebody in stasis can do. Not that I'm an expert, but I trust my colleagues who are."

Edward Jellico sat back in his seat and heaved a great sigh of relief. Knowing, as he did, what had happened to Picard, Jellico believed this unexpected contact could only be to announce the death of his old friend.

"Computer, on visual." The officer he'd (briefly) known appeared much as she had during their assignment together. Stressed and sleep-deprived, the edge in her voice bordering on desperation.

"Lieutenant O'Reilly, you're not looking well."

"I suppose I'm not."

Jellico took a quick read of his communications module. "Lieutenant, I don't see any subspace signatures… not even those of a secure channel. Where is this coming from?"

"Starbase 515." That was technically a lie. While transfer operations to get the captain moved from the Enterprise's sick bay to a stasis unit on the starbase were underway Leo had hailed Captain Jellico from her temporary quarters on the Enterprise, where she'd "customized" the comport to bypass even the most secure channels (and thus escape detection). The bypass remained stable only for a few minutes each time; any longer and disruptions in the subspace com system would make her tampering evident. "I'm helping with some research to determine the reason for the captain's heart failure, but I'm having a hard time accessing any records connected to the captain's time in Cardassian custody, and I was wondering… do you have relevant information from your own logs that might be rated for normal clearance?"

_Nice try, Lieutenant,_ Jellico thought to himself. "Is this an official inquiry? I was under the impression that your commission aboard the Enterprise had been terminated, and that your current presence aboard was for personal reasons only." He could see the lieutenant looked caught out. Did she really believe he hadn't been following the situation closely, as one of his oldest colleagues hung by a thread? But she ignored the question.

"Captain, please. I believe Starfleet and the Federation are deliberately withholding information that some of us are convinced could solve the mystery of why his heart failed. If we had that information they could design and implant a new one pretty quickly. As it is… it's been four days going on five. I'm no med-tech but I know stasis can't last forever."

He wondered for a moment how this officer had managed to hang onto her commission so long with such an inclination toward recklessness. Even Jean Luc couldn't protect her from this kind of thing. Then again, this was an extreme circumstance. Rather like the Cardassian border dispute. He knew well that extreme circumstances sometimes drive us to extreme actions, and even at that time he'd sensed something stronger than the typical loyalty of an officer to a commander.

"You probably won't believe me," he advised, "but I don't have anything that could help you. Even if releasing official logs _weren't_ a violation of regulations." Jellico really did understand the urge to ignore regulations because he'd been there so often himself, but still... "If I report this communication, you'll be sent back to Daystrom and will certainly face censure." To his amazement, Lieutenant O'Reilly gulped back a sob as she pounded one fist on her desk.

"They're gonna let him _die_, don't you get it?" she burst out, "Oh, they don't _think_ that's what they're doing, they think Starfleet med-tech will wave some magic wand and make it all better because that's what they _always_ believe… that they know best, they know _everything_. And meanwhile he's lying on a slab withering away. Who knows better than you that he deserves better than that? That they owe him _more_ than that! He was half eaten alive by the Cardassians, and now Starfleet seems willing to finish the job… for what? For _protocol?"_

If what she was saying were true, and his own experience in Starfleet told Jellico that it was more likely than not… suddenly he was reminded why he never wanted to rise higher in the Starfleet power structure than ship's captain. "Perhaps there is something else, something not a part of logs and records that might be of help."

Dismay turned to eagerness as she suggested, "A name. The name of the commandant of that hell hole where they kept him."

That was easy enough, and far from classified… the name of that loathsome excuse for a military commander would stay with Edward Jellico forever. "Gul Madred. I hear he was demoted after Captain Picard was released, made communications coordinator in the same facility. Nursing his oversized ego ever since, no doubt." He didn't know how that could help. It was best that he not _want_ to know.

"Gul Madred... thank you, Captain."

"No thanks necessary. As you've taken great pains to ensure, this conversation never took place." He was rewarded by Leo's stunned look of surprise, and his smile was barely withheld. "You forget I've been at this game a lot longer than you, Lieutenant. Jellico out."


	9. Above all else

_Starbase 515 biomedical stasis unit, 1700 hours, day four_

"Wow, fancy digs here. It wasn't easy getting by the palace guards, but Will wrote me a 'please admit this person or she'll drive me nuts' note. Okay. Look. This is getting serious, and I may not be able to come back for awhile. I'm about to do something, or to try to anyway… there's really no other way, and I've made sure nobody else will be dragged into it. No ship-in-danger kind of stuff. But I think… no, I _know_, it's gonna piss you off, maybe permanently. Listen, nobody is getting anywhere here, and the clock is ticking down, so it's time to throw the manual into the fire. Geordi and I have figured out what to do and between the two of us I'm the one crazy enough to do it. Did I see an eyebrow twitch? You've tried to teach me about discipline, about holding back my own personal opinions for the greater good, that rules exist for a reason, and some of it sank in, I swear. And I'm about to throw some of that into the fire too, I guess. Because another thing I've learned, and not just from you, is that there's mandate, and there's duty, and there's a difference between them. My mandate is – okay, _was_ – what does the manual say? 'to fulfill the commands and requirements of the commander of the USS Enterprise as he sees them' – but my duty was, my duty _is_…"

Here a pause, a reach through the more sophisticated blue field to touch the immobile eyebrow, then, "I can debate a mandate. I can't debate this. And if you live the rest of your life shamed and outraged by how I could discard every good thing you've done for me at least you'll be living the rest of your life. I can live with the rest. Here, one more for the road," she hovered within the blue halo and stared hard at the closed eyes before kissing the now more-withered, colder forehead. She straightened then, still staring for a moment, then took a deep breath and offered a sardonic smile.

"See you at the disciplinary hearing."

* * *

_USS Enterprise, Turbolift 3, 1730 hours, day four_

"Worf, hold it a minute!"

Commander Worf ordered, "Computer pause," and waited for Leo to run into the turbolift. "Continue," he told the computer.

"Worf, can I ask you something?" Leo asked, out of breath from her race to catch him.

"Of course." As a Klingon, Worf considered Leo's personal loyalty to the captain to be highly admirable. As a crewmate, however, he shared the others' concern that the lieutenant's feelings might be blinding her to what might lie ahead. That concern increased somewhat as she ordered, "Computer, halt."

"If there is something you wish to discuss in private," he offered, "I am willing to meet with you later in your quarters, or an available conference room." Something about her urgent expression made him uneasy.

"It can't wait til later. Worf, I need to know something… about honor and duty. I can't think of anyone to ask who'd know better than you." She could see the Klingon was puzzled, and more than a little uncomfortable. "I'm sorry to seem so mysterious and sudden… but can you tell me, can there be a situation where doing your duty can _oppose_ honor? I mean, what if your sworn duty to some larger entity required you to ignore your personal commitment to something else?"

"Ah. You are speaking of your loyalty to the captain, and your duty to Starfleet," Worf told her. He could see that Leo was a little startled by his directness, but her expression relaxed as he continued, "It sounds as if you are wondering whether your presence here, and your absence from the Daystrom Institute, constitutes a denial of your duty, and so a lack of honor. The Klingons believe that the greatest honor comes from fulfilling one's _inner_ duty, that one's personal commitment and loyalty is to be held above all else. Without it, all other duty is meaningless." He paused, noting Leo's rapt attention. "Is this helpful?" Worf asked, still uncertain.

Leo nodded emphatically. "Absolutely. You're saying that the most important duty has to come from inside you, and can't be imposed from the outside. That if there is a conflict, honor comes from fulfilling that first, inner duty, and not any that someone else might impose on you."

"Yes," Worf nodded slowly. He hesitated a moment as Leo announced "Continue," and the turbolift resumed its motion. Worf hadn't formed an especially close association with the Lieutenant, and it was unlike her to make such a personal inquiry regarding his Klingon philosophy, so he ventured an unlikely question of his own, "Have you spoken to Counselor Troi about this as well? Perhaps she would be better equipped to help you find the answers you seek."

The doors slid open and Leo was halfway out as she called over her shoulder, "Really Worf, you told me exactly what I needed to know. Don't have time, anyway, I got some things to do," and she dashed down the corridor, leaving the perplexed Klingon on his own. As the turbolift sped toward its destination, Worf's doubts got the better of him. "Ten forward," he ordered, knowing Geordi was taking a rare break now that the medical staff had taken over the examination of the captain's failed heart.

* * *

_Lieutenant O'Reilly's temporary quarters, 1745 hours, day four  
_

_Wow, that was close_, Leo thought as she sat down at her comport. For a minute she thought Worf might suspect how far over the line she was about to go, but he made it plain he believed her doubts revolved around something much more obvious, and less risky._ What a goddamn shame, now I'm afraid of my own crewmates... _she shoved the thought from her mind and dove into the task at hand._  
_

She was able to track the former Gul Madred via a hastily hacked link between the declassified account of the Cardassian border dispute and a corresponding log that recorded the immediate aftermath relating to the "key players". She was frankly surprised how easy it was; whether it had been declassified for reasons unknown, or inadvertently never classified at all, it contained little information other than where the key personnel were currently assigned. Nothing considered particularly useful to any unauthorized persons, apparently.

Captain Jellico's tip had been right on the money. Madred had been broken to the pathetic (to a Cardassian) rank of "Gil" and was now in charge of intrabase communications on Celtris III. Obviously the humiliation of serving where he once ruled would be more complete than mere exile. The communication signatures for Celtris III were also surprisingly easy to locate. No mystery there… contacting an enemy of the Federation (as Cardassia was still considered to be) was a court-martial offense or worse, so why bother classifying it?

Her information gathered and her plan in place, Leo sat for a moment staring at her comport. She couldn't ignore the blinking icon that notified her of Data's earlier subspace messages awaiting her reply.

_Not yet._ Seeing him face-to-face was too dangerous right now, he'd know she was up to something. Avoiding Geordi had been easier; his return to full Daystrom-focused duty kept him very busy indeed. But it wasn't just the risk of discovery that held Leo back from responding to Data's hails. She was afraid if she saw his face she'd lose her nerve, because what she was about to do would affect him profoundly. "Plausible deniability" could shield others from criminal charges, but the fact was that the Daystrom project could be interrupted or even halted by what she planned to do.

As she sat quietly with eyes closed Leo's thoughts shifted back and forth between the current crisis and the new life she'd begun with Data, the exciting discoveries they had ahead of them, the need to protect it at all costs. Always her mind's eye was drawn back to a darkened room and a halo of blue light, the life within it losing ground.

_one's personal commitment and loyalty is to be held above all else_

"I'm so sorry," she whispered to the blinking icon, and entered the communications signatures for Celtris III.


	10. Questions and answers

_Starbase 515 biomedical stasis unit, 0800 hours, day five_

"I didn't expect I'd be able to weasel one last visit, but I guess the med tech on guard is used to me even after almost no time at all."

A small, useless movement to adjust the pillow.

"I've been informed about your advance directive… who knew that would survive to this century? Sorry, but I knew when they called me to the 'advance directive' meeting that you'd have to wait for the final 'make it so'. Well no matter anyway… I've swapped my so-called soul for the secret to your survival. Who knew that those jerks would value so highly something that means nothing to me?"

Confessions followed, confidences in one who'd never betray them, then:

"I've said it before... I'd rather have you alive to be disappointed and think you wasted your time than... whatever. Whatever it is, it's worth it."

A pause, a final bow through the blue field.

"One last inappropriate expression," and not just one kiss, but one kiss on the now-grey forehead, and one at the sadly immobile eyebrow, and finally one at the corner of the mouth.

"It's as close as I dare. But good enough for the last time."

* * *

_Starbase 1, San Francisco Earth, , 1000 hours, __Day 8  
_

"So you tell this board of inquiry that, without any advice from friends and colleagues, you contacted a senior member of the Cardassian assembly?"

"No, ma'am. I _intended_ to contact a commander at Celtris III."

"And will you name that member?"

"I intended to contact Cardassian Commander Gul Madred, believing he still was in command of the unit that had held Captain Picard during the border incident. I was unaware that he had been demoted, and that his communications protocols had been changed when that happened."

"So you in fact contacted what member of the Cardassian high command?"

"My communication was redirected to Commander Gul Lemec."

"I ask you again, Lieutenant, did you advise any of your crewmates or commanders that you intended to contact any member of the Cardassian command at Celtris III?"

"No ma'am I did not."

"Not even your husband, who had served on the Enterprise longer than your commission?"

"No. I'm not saying I'm proud of it, or that he didn't ask me what was going on. In fact he did, before his return he asked me point-blank what I was up to and why."

"And what was your response?"

"I lied. I told him I was simply visiting with the captain, and hoping for the best."

"And your husband, who is an android and capable of analyzing all human verbal responses, believed you?"

"Yes, because he's never had reason not to. An android bases its responses on its previous inputs... and even given my irregular human responses, he had never had reason to expect I might lie to him."

"And why should the court believe that you would confide in none of your crewmates, or even your husband, once you decided what you would do?"

"Because I knew that doing so would endanger their commissions and their command."

"And what of the safety of the Federation and Starfleet? Did you consider that?"

"Yes, ma'am, I did. Rightly or wrongly I determined that my communications did not share any information that would endanger the Enterprise, Starfleet, or the Federation. I was aware of these concerns at all times."

"And what did you accomplish from this forbidden communication? You did understand that it was forbidden to communicate with an established enemy of the Federation?"

"Yes, ma'am I did. The regulations are quite clear. And what I hoped to accomplish has been accomplished, regardless of my actions."

"And that was?"

"The survival of Jean Luc Picard, commander of the Enterprise. Which is my sworn commission."

"At this time the commander of the Enterprise is William Riker."

"That is a temporary post, ma'am."

"But your actions at all times considered his well being and that of the ship?"

"Always."

* * *

"_Leo, don't even try to lie to me. I found the signatures, I have the details."_

"_Okay, Geordi, so what have you figured out?"_

"_A lot more than what Starfleet knows, a lot more than the fact that you contacted the Cardassians... as if that weren't enough! What were you __thinking__?"_

"_You know what I was thinking, or you'd have told them already."

* * *

_

_Starbase 1, San Francisco Earth, 1400 hundred hours, day 8_

"What was the substance of your communication with Gul Lemec?"

"I asked him for any information that might help us figure out what led to the Captain's… to Captain Picard's heart failure."

"And what inspired you to contact the Cardassians rather than Starfleet, or the medical authorities at Starbase 515?"

"I'd become aware that Starfleet believed it held no relevant information. Comm—Captain Riker inquired, and related the response to me."

"And what was Gul Lemec's response?"

"He told me to go to hell, ma'am, or the Cardassian equivalent."

"No suggestions of what might be a worthy trade for the information you asked for?"

"Given the current negotiations between the Federation and the Cardassian empire, he saw no available benefit."

"So these communications have no relevance to the resignation of your commission as a Starfleet officer?"

"None, ma'am."

"Yet a very short time after your failed attempt to gain information from Gul Lemec, information came anonymously to Starbase 515 that enabled them to discover the reason for Captain Picard's heart failure, "

"Go figure, ma'am. It's a strange universe."


	11. Your guess is as good as mine

"You have never lied to me." Absence of the e-chip notwithstanding, Data was in full Disappointment Mode.

"I'm not lying to you _now._ I just… I can't tell you, okay? For very good reasons."

"C'mon Leo, the Federation isn't quite as accepting as Data." _And neither am I, _thought Geordi.

"Look, guys…" and for just a second Leo was assailed by her love for these two and its imperative to be truthful. In the end, her greater "mission" won out.

"What you know is all I can tell you. Get it?" She really didn't want them to believe she was jerking them around, hoping they knew her well enough to read the subtext. "I'm doing what I have to do or else I won't ever be able to live with myself. And keeping my mouth shut keeps you out of it. Get it?" She stared at her husband and her best friend-in-law. "GET IT?"

Data leaned forward, adjusting his interface parameters (unofficially of course) to deactivate both the force field of his wife's cell and the alarm that would alert security that it _had_ been breached. "I believe I speak for both of us when I say we I 'get it'. But do you 'get' the finality of this decision? Will you be able to live with this as you have lived with your other difficult decisions?"

More was here to be lost, far more than anything she'd ever considered, and Data was perhaps the only one who both understood and was able to confront Leo with the reality. Perhaps it was the lack of the emotion chip that freed him, that freed them both.

Leo read Data as he had read her.

"It's not as if I have a choice, D. If I couldn't do this I couldn't live with myself," she repeated, adding, "I couldn't live with _you_." She hoped he could read the gut-deep, undeniable truth of it in her eyes.

He didn't disappoint her. "Agreed." Data turned to Geordi. "I do not believe we need to ask if you agree."

Geordi shook his head sadly. "No, you don't." And a moment later he reached for Leo's hand. "If nobody else ever understands this, and I'm not even sure I do, you know accept it anyway."

Leo took Geordi's hand and reached for Data's. "All for one and one for all, or something…" she shook her head and smiled a little lamely. "You'll accept what I won't ever explain. There must be a word for that somewhere."

"Friendship," Geordi offered.

Data added, "Faith." Data had urged her to it so often before it seemed obvious to express it.

Leo squeezed their hands.

"Love."

* * *

"Commander LaForge, you have confirmed the existence of the recently discovered communications between Lieutenant O'Reilly and the Cardassian Commander Gul Madred."

"I confirmed the Lieutenant's _attempt _to communicate with the former Gul Madred. The communication was rerouted to Commander Gul Lemec. Madred was demoted to Gil after his torture of Captain Picard failed to get any information." The last words were spoken with more than a little edge.

"Have you determined the substance of the communications, or their intention?"

"I haven't. I only know that they happened. Lieutenant O'Reilly was skilled enough in masking technologies to prevent any direct monitoring or recording of content."

"And despite the fact that the lieutenant is your close friend and colleague, and married to a fellow officer you describe as your best friend, you are telling this investigating body that she confided nothing regarding what she must have known would be a career-ending, if not a criminal, breach of Starfleet regulations?"

"No ma'am, she didn't." He read doubt on the faces of the panel members. "I'm not saying I didn't have any ideas of my own what she might have been doing. I'm saying she didn't tell me, not a word, and to be honest I wasn't entirely sure that it wasn't the stress of the situation putting things in my head."

"Knowing now what has happened, do you believe that perhaps there was some greater plan that was interrupted by Captain Picard's recovery? And perhaps she resigned her commission in an attempt to avoid further investigation?"

Geordi's response was so accurate even Leo herself found it hard to believe he hadn't discovered the truth. She forced herself not to react, terrified of undoing the "plausible deniability" that she'd worked so hard to maintain for everyone but herself.

"No ma'am, absolutely not. In fact deep down I believe the captain's recovery _was_ the plan. Maybe Lieutenant O'Reilly thought she could discover something important from Captain Picard's captors, something nobody in Starfleet Medical would have any reason to look for. Or maybe she didn't _know_ what she was doing, and realized in the end she had no way out but to resign. All I'm sure of is that Lieutenant O'Reilly would never knowingly endanger the Federation, or the Enterprise and its crew, for any reason personal or otherwise. It's just not possible. And as for career-ending, she seems to have covered that herself."

"And yet, Commander, if she _had_ endangered the Federation, the result would have been the same whether she did it knowingly or not." The Starfleet investigator paused in seeming frustration. "The witness is dismissed."

The Starfleet officer serving as recorder consulted his PADD. "Will Lieutenant Commander Worf please come forward."

All senior officers of the Enterprise had been called to testify either on the basis of their service or friendship with Leo. All were mystified by the sudden totality of disregard Leo had shown for regulations and for Starfleet in general. It was as if the bank teller had suddenly robbed the vault. Even Deanna had only been able to testify to the inner turmoil she'd sensed. That Leo had refused all offered counseling sessions only confirmed the notion that she had been determined to keep her plans and reasons to herself. As Leo's husband Data had, naturally, been permitted to refuse questioning except to note that she had shared her plans not even with him. The fact of his absence during the entire episode, and the lack of communication between himself and Leo, rendered any other contribution moot. He had taken the conn of the Enterprise for the remainder of the board of inquiry hearings.

Worf was primarily recognized by the board of inquiry as Leo's fellow officer, and it could honestly be said that he and Leo had never been close friends or companions. Except for one occasion, Worf recognized that Leo had never sought nor offered advice or confidences. That one occasion was troubling, as Worf now believed he should have considered Leo's questions, and his response, more carefully. For her part, Leo was nagged by the fear that here was where she might have failed to effectively keep her own counsel.

The initial questions posed to Worf were identical to those the other officers had answered.

"Commander Worf, you have served with Lieutenant O'Reilly since her assignment to the Enterprise. Have you found her to be a reliable and professional crewmate?"

"I have. The lieutenant has always demonstrated effectiveness at her post and behaved honorably."

"And during the period of Captain Picard's incapacity, or at any other time, have you ever had reason to suspect that she might engage in a gross breach of regulations such as those that have convened this inquiry?"

"I have not."

"Then she never betrayed any intention to engage in such actions?"

Worf paused.

"Commander? Did she take you into her confidence regarding her plans to communicate with the Cardassians?"

"I do not believe that was the basis of our conversation."

"What conversation was that?"

Worf related the brief exchange that occurred in the turbolift, which brought the panel members to sharp attention. One of the senior admirals questioned Worf directly.

"Didn't you think Lieutenant O'Reilly's concerns regarding the supposed opposition of duty and honor might have indicated some intentions that could have been less than 'honorable'?"

Worf controlled himself with great effort, knowing that the concepts of honor and duty that he had discussed with Lieutenant O'Reilly were quite different than those this admiral proposed.

"No sir, I do not. I believed at the time, and I still believe, that the Lieutenant was disturbed by recent events. My long service with humans has shown me that they are known to question themselves and their beliefs when under great stress." The fact that Worf was a Klingon, and Klingons considered lies to be a sign of weakness, satisfied the admiral.

"Very well. Recorder, call the final witness."

"Acting Captain William T. Riker, please come forward."

As Leo's commanding officer, Riker was perched firmly in the crosshairs of the inquiry if only because of the eternal notion of final accountability. Leo was painfully aware of this as she sat watching the proceedings. He'd said nothing at all to her since her forbidden communication had been revealed except to call her to the ready room for the dual purpose of informing her of the successful re-design and implanting of the captain's mechanical heart and her transfer to custody on the Starbase below. At that time the look on his face had been unreadable.

"Captain Riker," the investigator began.

"_Acting_ Captain," Will corrected.

"Acting Captain Riker," the Starfleet investigator continued patiently, "the board asks the same questions of you that it has of the other senior officers, though you may feel free to supply any additional knowledge of the Lieutenant's character and performance that you have been privy to as First Officer during Lieutenant O'Reilly's assignment to the Enterprise."

"I'm sorry to say I don't have anything more to offer regarding the Lieutenant's behavior than my fellow officers have had. During her tenure on the Enterprise, Lieutenant O'Reilly has occasionally shown an inclination to color outside the lines, if you will, but I also think that Starfleet Command is aware that this is a tendency many of us on the Enterprise share from time to time. Still… I'd never have expected this kind of thing from the Lieutenant, and I'm frankly clueless regarding the whys and wherefores. Don't get me wrong, I don't for a minute believe that the Lieutenant had any intention of betraying anything or anybody to the Cardassians… except maybe herself."

Leo managed not to squirm as Will looked hard at her, then back to the panel of high Starfleet officers. "The only theory that could even partly make sense has already been hinted at during the opening of the investigation… there's some sort of connection between Lieutenant O'Reilly's communication with Gul Lemec, and the captain's recovery, and the lieutenant's resignation of her commission. Begging the pardon of this distinguished panel, I'm damned if I know exactly what it is. I believe exactly what you've heard from everyone here that came before me, that Lieutenant O'Reilly and Gul Lemec himself are the only ones who really know what happened. I'm pretty sure that Gul Lemec won't be coming to testify anytime soon, and the Lieutenant's lips are obviously sealed."

"Thank you," the investigator cast about for an appropriate term of address and settled on, "Mr. Riker. If there's nothing else," with a wave of her hand she turned to the panel, the investigator motioned that Riker was free to go.

"If I could add something, please."

"Of course," the admiral who had questioned Worf invited.

"I'd be the last one to say that Lieutenant Leora O'Reilly is a sterling example of Starfleet Officer Material. Still I'd like to _believe_ that whatever she did was for the best of her personal reasons, no matter how inexplicable to the rest of us." The panel waited expectantly for more, but there was none. "That's all. If you'll excuse me, I have to return to the Enterprise to see to the eventual transition of command once the captain has fully recovered."

"By all means."

Some conferring amongst the board of inquiry officers ensued, then the lead investigator announced, "Lieutenant O'Reilly, please come forward."

Leo took her place in the witness chair.

"As you know, the submission of your resignation has rendered moot the need for a court martial. However this board of inquiry is left to determine whether or not your actions were motivated by treasonous intentions toward Starfleet or the Federation. If it is determined that such was behind your actions, the matter will be turned over to a civilian Federation court for the consideration of appropriate charges. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am. I can only tell you again that my only interest was to get information that might help the captain."

"An attempt you claim failed, even though it was followed by transmission of key medical-technical information from an unidentified source."

"Can I ask the board, please, what difference does it make? The captain is recovering, and I'll soon be far away from Starfleet. So what possible difference could it make if he gave me some answer that you're imagining, or told me to go to hell like I said?"

"The difference is, Lieutenant, that this board is concerned with the possibility that if he had given you an answer, that Gul Lemec might have instead offered information that would guarantee the captain's death."

Leo rolled her eyes and blurted in exasperation, "Gul Lemec didn't _want_ the captain dead." _Damn! Me and my big goddamn mouth! _

The investigator seized on this, of course. "And how did you know this?"

"Wild guess," then Leo covered her discomfort with attitude. "Besides, it couldn't have been any more guaranteed than Starfleet had managed already. I only did what you wouldn't do, and he couldn't have died _twice_." The shocked expressions of the board members encouraged her to continue. "You've read my statement of resignation. How can you have any doubt that I had so little faith in your intentions given your reluctance to 'embarrass' the Cardassians, that I knew somebody had to take the short way around or you'd be holding a memorial for Captain Picard instead of a kangaroo court for me?"

Geordi, Worf, and Riker exchanged quick looks. "In for a penny…" Geordi whispered to his companions.

The senior admiral regarded the PADD in his hand. "Yes, quite eloquent in its disdain, if I may excerpt: 'Starfleet's willingness to sacrifice every principle on the altar of its own hypocrisy makes me sick with impatience to leave its service. I can no longer pretend loyalty to an organization that demonstrates none. I most willingly resign my commission, and commend Starfleet on its ability to teach me an important lesson: that even centuries later, the military-industrial complex thrives with as great a gusto as in my time.' I must say, Lieutenant, your gift for insult is well-honed."

"I've been taught by masters, _sir_. I did what I did, and still the Federation lives on. And all I want now is _out_."

"Assuming the truth of a lack of treasonous malice might the panel know, Lieutenant, if your resignation were to be rejected and your fellow officers persuaded you to remain… is it fair to assume that under similar circumstances you would repeat the same actions?"

For the first time since the whole mess began, Leo spoke the whole truth.

"Clone me. I'll do it twice."


	12. Legendary

"Of course it goes without saying that I can't persuade you to change your mind."

"But of course you said it anyway."

"Hope springs eternal, Lieuten… Leo." For all of her firm demeanor, Picard caught her flinch at the correction, a thing few others would have noticed.

_You will not convince me that this is painless, I know you too well._

"A cliché supported by experience," he continued, "I know you'll agree with that, at least."

They sat at a small table in the patient café of the Recovery Center. Very much the same as their first meeting, at least in seating and proximity. There the resemblance ended. Picard had read the transcripts, and the statement of resignation and knew, despite her larger subterfuge on his behalf, she'd meant every word. He could remember no time in his life where there was so much to say that didn't actually need to be said.

"If it's any consolation, you'd be the one who could persuade me, if it could be done. But really, why would you want to?" Leo set her cup of tea down and leaned on the table, a long-established gesture of let's-cut-to-the-chase. "Every word in my resignation was the truth. I can't remain in a service I don't respect. And if I'd ever had my doubts about Starfleet, this experience has erased them, but not for the better."

Picard set his cup down with considerably more force. "How nice to know it was all such a waste of your time."

"_Now _who has a flair for melodrama?" Inwardly Leo cheered the return of the captain's sardonic wit.

Picard was caught out. He knew too well that things were as they would be, if not as he believed they should be.

"I beg the excuse of physical trauma." When the only reply was a smirk, he added, "Perhaps not."

They sat for a moment in silence, which Picard was the first to break.

"Leora Eileen, surely you can understand my not wanting to be responsible for such a sacrifice, noble as it is."

Leo sat back and laughed at the absurdity. "My god, now I _can_ blame your physical trauma for forgetting who I am. 'Noble sacrifice'? You are surrounded by people who have sworn to defend the Federation, and Starfleet, and you as their captain, with their lives. Some actually _have_ sacrificed them. I know how such things affect you, but I know just as well you don't believe yourself 'responsible'." She stood then and walked to a nearby viewport, then turned to face him. "_Look_ at us. No longer bound by the dictates of Starfleet, and still mincing words as if we'd choke on them whole."

"Leave to speak freely granted." Spoken with barely a hint of irony.

"Captain. You _are_ the Captain, in my mind, and will always be. But you know me better than anyone except my husband, who would _not_ be my husband had you not known me so well and believed in us so completely. And I believe… no, I _know_, that you have long suspected what I only just figured out. I've been in Starfleet for all the wrong reasons, and if I continued it would still be for the wrong reasons. I went to the Academy because I had nowhere else to go, and the captain and crew of the Avalon had been kind and understanding, and if they belonged to such a thing then maybe that was where I wanted to be. When I began to doubt that, I met Data. I loved him before he could understand what that meant. What more reason could there be for me to come to the Enterprise? And then I found friends, people who accepted me as I am even if they had to struggle to understand and even when they didn't agree. Honestly, that's the definition of 'friends', isn't it? My rank and position was a _job_ to me, like any other, and the boss I first thought might be a nightmare turned out to be a dream come true. You're following this, aren't you?"

Picard nodded, and indicated the chair next to his. Leo returned and sat, both of them noticing it was on his left, her accustomed position.

"I was here because of the _people_, not the institution," Leo continued, "and my loyalty was to them, and to you."

"The Enterprise is like other starships, few of them to be sure, where personal duty is as valued as professional duty," Picard reminded her, "You mustn't reproach yourself for responding to both."

_But she's right… I've known for a long time._

Leo was struggling with the weight of her decision's affect on those she cared about. "I don't, really I don't. But I know all of you, my husband, and all of my friends and crewmates, you're also devoted to something larger than yourselves… Starfleet. And I won't ever share that, for better or worse, I see it as the same kind of enormously powerful entity that I knew in my own time, making the same mistakes now that were made centuries before. Even now I can't be sure if I'm right or wrong, but it's how I feel and who I am. Either way, it's an insult to all of you if I fake it just to spare your feelings. Captain… ever since I came here I've known and worked with people who have been willing to risk everything for their ship and captain. All I did was give up a uniform that we _both_ know never fit me all that well. "

"Even so, you've sacrificed a life you've worked very hard to create, you've lost a position you've earned through your own effort. Perhaps if I intervene, with some others, considering the circumstances…" Still, he tried to persuade her, knowing it was a fool's errand.

"_Stop calling it a sacrifice!_" Leo shouted as she leapt up and gestured in frustration, "It _wasn't_ a sacrifice," she insisted, "it wasn't a _loss_. I couldn't _not _do it, I couldn't…" her voice faltered. "You don't know what it was like, to see you lying there, fading like an old photograph. Every time I came to see you there was less and less of you… and finally nothing mattered but making it _stop_, and I knew that wasn't going to happen if it was left to Starfleet. So I contacted the Cardassians, and when Gul Lemec asked me what your life was worth, I said 'name it'. I knew he didn't want you dead, that wouldn't save face, they're like Samurai, aren't they, only without the honor." _Honor_. She took a breath, forcing her voice level again. "He said 'I want him dishonored.' So he told me to resign, to insult the Federation, to throw back in your face everything you'd ever done and said and invested on my behalf. He said that would satisfy him, and that he would transmit the necessary biotech information on a secure channel as soon as my resignation was transmitted to Starfleet Command. We rigged my communication to trigger his; the transfer was almost simultaneous."

Picard was aghast. "_Why_ didn't you tell this to the board of inquiry?"

"What for? To get back a commission I honestly didn't want anymore? The Federation has a thing about saving face, too... or have you forgotten that they left you to die on Celtris III to cover their collective asses?" The rage she'd felt during the border incident came rushing back. She shook her head bitterly and returned to sit next to the captain. "I know what you're thinking… there's no dishonor in welshing on a promise to someone like Lemec. But if I did he'd have brayed about his 'contribution' to save the captain of the Federation flagship, and would have denied everything else. And to preserve their interests in whatever negotiations are going on, Starfleet and the Federation would have swallowed every bit of it, and anything else he told them. He'd be the hero, and I'd be forced out of the Daystrom project instead of being able to retain even my civilian consultant designation that Commander Maddox authorized." Her face was transformed with a sneer. "Besides, I wouldn't give that two-legged reptile the _satisfaction_ of holding up his end of the bargain while I dropped mine."

Out of words, Leo took a breath and turned to face Picard. "Okay, okay, you know me too well _not_ to know that all of that came to me afterward. Somebody just had to make it _stop_… that's all."

"Yes, it all sounds very reasonable, and you have my word I won't try to intervene. But if you're glad to be rid of the uniform, and gladder still to have bested Gul Lemec, there's something else that's troubling you. I know you too well not to know that, too."

She'd turned away, staring at the viewport. "Leora, look at me please." When she did, he saw he'd been right. There was something else, something he was certain she was keeping entirely to herself. Something Deanna Troi would have encouraged her to make peace with, if only Leo had agreed to meet with her. Her mania for Plausible Deniability would not permit it.

"I try to put it out of my head, I try to convince myself I'm imagining something that could never have happened." She struggled, looked away, then back at the captain. Tears that had been stowed far, far, away for weeks threatened to surface. "When that Cardassian pig asked me what your life was worth, I meant what I said. 'Name it,' I told him… I _meant_ that. I mean, what if it was just dumb luck that he didn't ask for something… something _more _than my stupid resignation… what if his military interests had trumped his ego? I honestly don't know that I wouldn't have agreed to anything he asked."

"_I_ know. You didn't want to risk the careers of your crewmates… surely you wouldn't have risked their lives."

Leo shook her head sadly. "But I'll never _know_."

"Then I suppose you'll just have to _believe_," Picard replied. He reached behind him, then, plopped the "conceptual Teddy" on the table. "I believe this is yours. I'd meant to return it some time ago, but… events intervened. It made quite a satisfactory pillow, thank you."

Tired of her own angst and stress, Leo laughed. "Or so you've been told." But Picard was deadly serious.

"So I _know_. It was a piece of the everyday world, you can't imagine how much." Noting Leo's dumbfounded expression, he continued, "I don't mind telling you, I felt _myself_ fading like an old photograph, floating in the dark. Even Beverly seldom spoke, and mostly to her staff, or to herself. And once I was down here…" his expression was shadowed for a second, as if by a bad dream, "nothing at all." Then a smile appeared as he remembered, "Except for some dark confidences, and badly read Shakespeare."

"Ohmygod," Leo blurted, "I was _right._ You gotta _tell_ them! This is what Beverly would call a 'medical paradigm shift'!"

He nodded, still smiling. "Yes. And I hope you'll allow me to keep the knowledge to myself for a while… I've been poked and prodded quite enough for the time being, thank you very much!"

"Oh yeah, right. You'd _never_ get out of here, would you?" She drew a cross on her chest, and made a turnkey-motion on her mouth. "My lips are sealed."

After a few silent moments, Leo asked, "So, what now?"

As if to answer the question, a medical staff member entered. "Excuse me, Captain Picard, sorry to interrupt your visit but it's time for your rehabilitative exercise. I'll take you to the rehab holodeck."

The captain waved off the suggestion. "I think I'd prefer an old-fashioned stroll, if that's all right." He directed this to both the med-staff and Leo, who smiled widely.

"I guess your paradigm has shifted a little, too, huh?" She rose and waited for the captain, who took her arm as the staff member took his leave (after consulting his superiors for authorization, of course).

"Still working on my stamina," he explained. "I hope you don't mind."

"Nah, you've propped _me_ up often enough, metaphorically speaking."

They walked for a while, Leo following Picard's directions, until they came to an arboretum. _A walk in the woods_, Leo remembered once wishing she and the captain could just take a walk in the woods, no awkwardness, like regular people.

"What now... indeed," Picard echoed Leo's earlier question. "I don't suppose your offer of 'simple' friendship is still on the table?"

"A lifetime of 'Jean Luc moments'? Lemme think..." She mused for some minutes in mock-consideration as they wandered slowly among the greenery, then nodded firmly. "Just under the deadline, as luck would have it. But think carefully… I've blown every regulation, resigned my commission, and insulted the Federation on the orders of a Cardassian with whom I then conspired to circumvent security and communications protocols. What kind of friend is _that_ for the commander of the Federation flagship?"

Picard pulled them to a halt. The Eyebrow rose as he leaned a bit closer and responded with a wry smile, "_Legendary._"


	13. Throwbacks

_Daystrom Institute, quarters of Commander Data and Civilian Administrative Coordinator Leora Eileen O'Reilly-Soong, two weeks later_

* * *

"Leo, there is a communication for you on a secure channel." Data was puzzled, then concerned. "I believed the inquiry to be closed… was it not?" There were things about the entire incident that Data had resigned himself never to understand, at least until his wife chose to tell him whatever she had held back. The knowledge that she hadn't told him everything didn't disturb him; he knew that sooner or later she would be moved to share everything with him. As she did in all things, sooner or later.

"Signed, sealed, and consigned to history… or infamy. Depending on your perspective," Leo reassured him. Since resigning from Starfleet she'd felt positively unbound from restraints she'd never fully comprehended until they were gone. And she still had the life that Jean Luc Picard had so feared she'd given up… her husband, her work, and her friends.

"Stop worrying," she chided, "you'll fry a circuit! I'll take it in my office."

She went to the in-quarters office space ("No more work stations in the middle of the living room!" she'd declared upon her return) and sat before the comport.

"O'Reilly-Soong here. On visual, computer." Then, "Well I'll be damned. To what do I owe this unexpected, uh, 'visit'?"

"Just thought I'd offer congratulations. You got the last word after all."

"'Last word?' What do you mean?"

"I _mean_, former Administrative Executive Lieutenant, that Gul Lemec thought he'd gotten his own back, his rejoinder for your 'promise' to him after the captain was returned from Celtris III. The communication that 'never happened.'"

"Oh, that. I should've known you'd have found out about that. Been at the game so long, and all. Well thanks, I guess. How's Captain Picard?"

"Mending rapidly. And completely unaware that I had any involvement in his dramatic recovery."

"Thanks, by the way. I never got a safe chance to say it."

"Thanks for what? Our communication never happened, either."

Leo leaned back in her chair and laughed out loud. "I _knew_ there was a reason I liked you! It's why I left you out of it, by the way… Starfleet needs all the 'throwbacks' it can get. Thanks for everything, Captain. You _are_ still a captain, right? No promotions?"

Her caller erupted with laughter of his own.

"That'll be the day. I'll give your regards to Jean Luc. Jellico out."

Still smiling to herself, Leo returned to the living room to settle on the sofa next to Data. "No worries," she promised him, "the good guys are still ahead."

Data nodded, still somewhat confused. Even after years together, Leo's cryptic pronouncements could leave him at a loss.

"Cara mia," he began, then shifted gears with positronic skill, and kissed her cheek. "I will take your word for it."


	14. I'll Stand By You

**A/N: I thought I'd end by including all the lyrics to the song that inspired the story, in case anyone is unfamiliar with it... they seem to describe the Leo/Picard relationship pretty well. Funny how a huge story cycle that began as a love story for Leo O'Reilly and Data turned into something entirely different!**

* * *

Oh, why you look so sad  
tears are in your eyes  
Come on and come to me, now  
Don't be ashamed to cry  
Let me see you through  
Cause I've seen the dark side, too

When the night falls on you  
You don't know what to do  
Nothing you confess  
Could make me love you less

I'll stand by you  
I'll stand by you  
Won't let nobody hurt you  
I'll stand by you

So , if you're mad, get mad  
don't hold it all inside  
come on and talk to me now  
Hey - what you got to hide  
I get angry too,  
Well I'm a lot like you

When you're standing at the crossroads  
And don't know which path to choose  
Let me come along  
Cause even if you're wrong

I'll stand by you  
I'll stand by you  
Won't let nobody hurt you  
I'll stand by you  
Take me in into your darkest hour  
And I'll never desert you  
I'll stand by you.

And when  
When the night falls on you baby  
You're feelin' all alone  
You won't be on your own

I'll stand by you  
I'll stand by you  
Won't let nobody hurt you  
I'll stand by you

Take me in into your darkest hour  
and I'll never desert you  
I'll stand by you


End file.
